Nothing But Memories
by DaySloth
Summary: Ruth DeWitt Bukater believes that her daughter is dead. Now she is left with nothing but memories.
1. Chapter 1

Once I stepped off the Carpathia and set my feet on solid ground, I was expecting to finally crumble. Let everything sink in. All of the deaths I had just witnessed.

The horror.

The screams.

But it seemed as if the numbing cold north Atlantic air that had engulfed me had not yet left my soul. I started to wonder if it ever would.

I had no idea what I was going to do. Or what one would expect me to do.

Instead of feeling excited for my daughter's wedding, I would be planning her funeral.

I was left all alone with no family, no money and nothing to look forward to.

Mollie Brown kindly offered for me to stay with her until I get back on my feet. I assume she needed the company of someone who had experienced the terror that she had. Someone who would not ask questions or offer condolences. The others did not understand. We were all so sick of their pity.

It was difficult to talk to people. I could not concentrate on their faces without them morphing into the screaming faces of those who drowned in front of my eyes.

Mr Hockley was nice enough to visit me regularly. He appeared to be in less shock than I was. Perhaps his youthfulness helped him cope. I enjoyed his company even though we did not talk much. It was nice just to drink hot tea with someone who I was comfortable enough to just sit in silence with and not feel obliged to make polite conversation.

My favorite part of the day was sitting in the morning sun, sipping tea. The warmth temporarily filled my body and allowed the memories to stop haunting me for just a brief moment. Molly had a fantastic bird bath which attracted pretty little visitors. I really admired the birds. Their vibrant colors. Their cheery songs. Their freedom.

One morning, Molly ran outside to join me. Her face was flushed with excitement.  
"Ruth! Are you ready to finally rejoin civilized high society?" She asked.  
I was not. But she was persistent.  
There was to be a ball that Saturday night and she thought that it would improve my condition if I went along. There was no polite way to refuse her.

I did not have a gown to wear and I could not borrow anything of Molly's for it would be much too large. Molly found someone who could make me a ball gown at the last moment. I did not want to admit it but I started to feeling something inside me that was not pure coldness.

Up until that point, I adored getting fitted for new dresses. However, I found the poking and producing of the dress maker to be intrusive as he made his measurements and adjustments. When the gown was complete, it felt too tight, too restrictive. But Molly insisted that it was just perfect.

I was adamant that my dress be black. It would be improper for it to be any other shade. Yet as I looked down at it, I could not help but think back to my husbands death. It was almost like I had gone backward. But instead of burying my husband, I would be saying goodbye to my daughter.

I had made countless inquiries but there was no one with the name DeWitt Bukater who survived the sinking. Just when I thought that my financial problems would be over.

No grandchildren. No legacy. Nothing.

I suddenly realized that the ball would be a terrible idea. It would be filled with young couples; all happy and dancing. And I would be alone. No daughter. No future.

But I could not back out.


	2. Chapter 2

I glanced around the ballroom at all of the cheerful couples, young bachelors and the young women who sought to win their hearts. It did not seem that long ago that I was in their position. My parents had been adamant that I had made a good match. I did not tell them that their son-in-law hit me. I do not think it would have mattered.

Luckily, they were not around to see George after he started drinking and gambling. I would go to bed every night with tears streaming down my face. At first, I had been scolded by my husband for not taking care of my appearance, for I was puffy-eyed each morning. But after awhile, he no longer appeared to notice. He was too drunk to notice much of anything.

In the years following George's death, most of my time had been consumed finding a suitable husband for Rose. I was determined that she marry someone wealthy so that she did not have to worry about debts. Now that she was no longer with me, I felt like my life was a failure.

"Excuse me. Mrs DeWitt Bukater?"

I turned to find a handsome gentleman extending me his hand. I took it graciously and stepped onto the dance floor.

"My name is Hobbes. Sir William Hobbes. I have been watching you for some time now. You appear to be rather distracted. I just had to ask Mrs Brown who you were. I'm so very sorry to hear your daughter."

It took me a moment to respond. He was absolutely breath-taking, especially for a man who was past his prime. I managed to mumble a polite respond before turning my head to the side. I did not want him to see me blushing. I thought that I had outgrown that horrible habit.

Mr Hobbes led me out to the join the couples already dancing to the cheerful melody which called for swift movements. At first I would afraid that I would accidentally misplace my feet but Mr Hobbes voice had a calming effect that allowed me to unwind.

Slowly, I found it easier to talk with Mr Hobbes. I found him to be a charming gentleman who was able to lead me throughout all of the dances without being too forceful or tense. His relaxed manner began to put me at ease. That was, until Molly made an appearance.

"Is that a smile I see on your face there, Ruth? If you're not careful, Mr Hobbes will think that you are trying to woo him, haha!"

It was just like Molly Brown to ruin a perfect moment. I politely excused myself. I could not remember the last time that I had felt so humiliated.

I weaved my way through the crowd of people until I reached the opposite end of the ball room. It was out of character for me to simply run away. However, I needed space to calm down. Just when I was starting to regain my composure, Mr Hobbes appeared by my side.

"I'm so sorry about that. Don't let Mrs Brown embarrass you. You looked to be having such a nice time. I was impressed by your dancing."

I gave him a smile and thanked him for attempting to make me feel better. I decided to have a stern talking with Molly the next day. How dare she make such assumptions!

Another part of me knew that it was partly my fault. I knew how Molly could be. I should not have let her crude jokes get to me.

"Would you like to lead me back to the dance floor, Mr Hobbes?" I asked.

As we emerged into the crowd of people, I felt the coldness begin to ebb away. I could not let myself be haunted by the past forever. While the future was still uncertain, I was determined to enjoy the present.


End file.
